Harry Potter and the Living Dead
by thenag
Summary: Told from Hermione's POV, an alternative ending to Deathly Hallows. Character death.
1. Prologue

Harry!" I screamed as I raced down the sloping lawn of Hogwarts towards the Forbidden Forest, Ron hard on my heels. It was misty twilight, and it was hard to see. Hagrid's hut loomed, a dark silhouette in the white mist. "Harry," I panted, my voice finally succumbing to my body's need for oxygen. Beside me, Ron's breathing also sounded labored. We slowed to a stop beside Hagrid's home.

"Now where?" Ron wheezed, "He could be anywhere in there…"

Before I could despair, a large crash sounded to our right. Our heads jerked around to the source of the noise. A dark figure was stumbling out of the forest a few hundred yards to our right. Ron bolted towards it, and I quickly followed, praying it was Harry. The figure fell again and again, each time stumbling back to its feet. After one fall, it got up again, only to stagger back the direction it had just come from.

Harry.

Ron reached him first, and grabbed him by the arm, to turn him around to face us. "Harry!" He shouted.

Harry screamed shrilly. Ron gasped and let go of his arm. It was then I realized that Harry's arm—the arm Ron had grabbed him by—was hanging at an odd angle from his body. It was obviously broken in several places.

Ron tried again, "Harry, mate, what happened?"

Harry turned and staggered towards us. I screamed at the sight. Harry's face was covered in blood. His scar seemed to be seeping blood, and his hair was matted with it. His clothing was dirty and torn. The worst were Harry's eyes, usually a bright green. They were nearly white, with just a faint hint of green.

Ron swore quietly. "Hermione?" Ron questioned quietly, as Harry stumbled between us, gasping, "What's wrong with him?"

I shook my head. Just then, Harry fell again. "Harry!" I screamed, dropping next to him.

Harry laid sideways on the ground, gasping. His cloudy eyes found mine, "Voldemort…Ginny…" He gasped, "Dead…."

I heard Ron take a sharp breath and charge off into the forest.

"What happened Harry?" I pleaded, "What happened?"

Harry gasped, "Obliv…"

His eyes turned completely white, and then closed.


	2. One Year Later

"You're sure about this?" Ron questioned, "You can still change your mind."

I gazed across the kitchen at him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking coffee out of his favorite coffee mug, a cracked _Chudley Cannons_ one. I'd often pestered him to repair the crack, but he proclaimed that the crack gave it 'character'. His hair was shorter than it ever had been before, a military-style haircut for the Auror program. Since it was a Saturday, he was dressed in Muggle clothing, blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt.

I stirred my tea and shook my head at him, "It was your idea."

Now he shook his head at me, smiling, "Sure, it was my idea. Then you took up the cause like you did with S.P.E.W."

I laughed as I turned the _Prophet_. "I haven't given up on that, you know."

Ron's tone turned seriously, "Are you sure Hermione?" I looked up at him as he continued, his facial expressions matching the tone of his voice, "I don't want you to be a martyr, like we have to do this or to feel like you didn't get a chance for your career."

I smiled loving at Ron, "Ron, it's okay. I don't feel like a martyr. I want to do this. I want him out of there."

"But your work…"

Suddenly, I was angry, "We've been through this Ron. I'll be able to do Rune translation from home, and between what I make there and your Auror stipend, we'll be fine. Let's not rehash it today, of all days."

"But just because he's my best mate…"

"Ronald, he's my friend, too!"

There was a pause while I glared at Ron, and he cowered before my gaze. Suddenly, we both started laughing. I stood up and crossed the kitchen to Ron, kissing him softly on the lips. "It's the best solution. It's been over a year. Harry hasn't been out of St. Mungo's since…" I didn't finish the sentence. Harry hadn't left St. Mungo's since Ginny Weasley's funeral, a week after his defeat of Voldemort. Ginny's death was a hard subject with any Weasley, but especially with Ron since he'd been the one to find her body.

In truth, Harry probably didn't know he was even at the funeral, but George had insisted. _He loved her, too_, he'd said, _He should be there._ It was a closed ceremony, because of Harry's presence. Nobody wanted too many people there, or for word of Harry's condition to circle the Wizarding world.

Probably the worst part of Ginny's death was the unknown. Nobody knew what happened to her except Harry—and he wasn't in any condition to tell.

I took a deep breath, "He'll be happier here."

Ron tenderly grasped my arms, "Hermione, be realistic." He paused, "Harry won't realize he's here. He won't be happier."

"Ron," I began but he cut me off.

"Hermione, I know you're planning on doing research to help him, to find out what's wrong, but please, please be realistic. Harry's condition hasn't changed since he was admitted to St. Mungo's. It's unlikely that it will now."

I realized that I was crying, and when I looked up at Ron, realized that he was as well, "This isn't about getting Harry back, Hermione. He won't be coming back. That Harry is dead. This is about taking care of Harry because he's our family. He'll be here for the rest of our lives—his too, and we'll be taking care of him for that whole time. Our Harry is dead, but this Harry is alive."

I took a ragged breath through my tears, "I know, Ron, I know." I hiccupped as I tried to stop crying, "But I'm still going to try." I said defiantly.

Ron smiled at me through his tears, "You wouldn't be Hermione if you didn't."


End file.
